


Winter

by nekonexus



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: Drug Use, Illusions, M/M, Surreal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-08
Updated: 2005-10-08
Packaged: 2017-10-26 01:39:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/277154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekonexus/pseuds/nekonexus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On one of the many missions Sanzo sent them on before the journey truly started, Hakkai is waylaid by Illusionists promising what can never be had.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winter

He stopped to catch his breath, suddenly alone on an empty street on the outskirts of the tiny village. The sky overhead was the pale, thin blue of winter, lit by a cold sun that shed no warmth. The ground was bare, but the taste of snow hung sharp and peculiarly fresh in the chill air.

He turned, and found he wasn't alone after all. The air _shivered_ and a quiet, uncaring corner of his mind murmured _illusion_. He ignored it. Closing his eyes, he tilted his head back and stuck out his tongue to catch a snowflake. It felt somehow feathery, and he opened his eyes again, feeling the stirrings of an emotion he'd thought dead.

A young woman stood before him, hands extended, open-palmed. She was singing softly, words lost in the slight breeze that tugged at her long, brown braid.

His heart swelled, tightened his chest, choked off even the one word he might say, and so he simply stepped forward to take her hands. He was smiling; a bright, beaming smile that had not graced his features in a year or more now.

She retreated, laughing amidst her song. The snow spread out behind her, falling over land and buildings like a blanket, six inches thick and pristine white.

He would have followed, but a strong hand on his arm stopped him.

He blinked, and the illusion of snow and song and _she_ vanished, leaving the ground bare again.

"There you are," Gojyo said, sounding relieved. "Somethin' weird's goin' on around here."

"Illusionists," he whispered, hugging himself tightly.

A few steps away, a woman licked a small, white feather, and became someone else before running to greet another traveller on the road. Tiny flakes of snow fell at her heels.

Gojyo shivered. "C'mon, let's get out of here."

He shook his head, started walking towards the building that stood alone in the near distance; the one _she_ had been about to lead him toward. "We should determine who they are and how they are doing this."

"That's not our mission, Hakkai."

His shoulders twitched, curled in a little. His eyes were still blinded by sunlight on snow. Snow that blanketed his heart now, deep and peaceful. He had not known such peace for so long....

Gojyo fell into step behind him.

 

The building was a single storey, but long. There were no guards at the door. Inside, there was a sparsely furnished dormitory-style room, with rows of cots along three of the walls. There was a door in the left-hand wall that seemed to lead to the rest of the building. Nearest the door, a woman sat, one leg tucked up beneath her, on a dusty cot. She smiled at them as they approached the door.

"You'll find what you're looking for, here," she said to him. Gesturing to a pair of cots on the other side of the door, she added, "Leave your burdens here."

He turned without questioning and moved to one of the cots. Behind him, Gojyo made a disgusted sound.

"Are those drugs?"

He glanced back over his shoulder; could barely make out the small, white pills on the woman's cot.

"They're mine!" she snapped. "Get your own."

He turned away, shed his pack and coat and laid them on the cot. Other than the woman, it was eerily quiet in the building. The scent of snow was almost buried beneath incense that did nothing to soothe. Leaving Gojyo behind, he walked through the second door, into the next room.

 

He passed through a narrow hallway, with a dark, doorless room on the right side, and a line of closed doors on the other. Clothing hung on rolling racks, further narrowing the space. He fingered the strange fabrics as he passed; cloth that shone like silk scratched like wool against his fingertips. He curled his hand closed, and kept walking.

The door at the other end of the hall was closed. Faint sound filtered through the thick wood. He paused, straining to hear.

Someone was singing.

Someone was crying.

A sonorous voice rose over both, but he couldn't make out the words. Pushing the door open, he stepped through.

The room beyond was large, almost cavernous, impossibly larger than the outside dimensions had seemed. Lamps hung from the ceiling on long chains, shedding light that was soft, diffuse, and golden. Small clusters of people stood in loose circles around the room, each gathered close around a single person.

His eyes were drawn to the nearest group, and he watched an elderly woman bathed in feathery light embrace a trembling old man.

"Welcome," someone said to him.

He turned his head, blinked mildly at them.

"You will find here what you seek," the man continued, gesturing to the others. "As they have."

"Illusion," he whispered, but his heart did not believe it. His heart sang in tune with a remembered melody, ached in time with the beating of an absent other.

The man shook his head. "It is real enough to ease the soul. A final farewell, a final embrace. Why should any man be denied these things?"

A sudden burst of laughter rang out, amidst the sound of joyful tears.

"Follow me," the man said.

How could he not?

 

~*~*~

 

"You came in with the other new guy, didn't you?" someone asked, stepping out from behind a clothing rack. Gojyo stopped in his tracks, almost biting his cigarette in two.

"Where is he?" he growled. He'd lost sight of Hakkai almost as soon as they'd entered the building, as if his partner had become a ghost and faded through the wall. He was making slow progress in searching for him, too.

Fabric rustled as the other man shrugged. "Speaking to the dead, I imagine. That's what everyone comes here for." He paused to eye Gojyo's cigarette with distaste. "There must be someone you wanted to see, as well, no?"

A shiver ran up Gojyo's spine and tried to raise the hair on the back of his neck. "You raise the dead?"

The other laughed. "No, no. It's all illusion, in the end. Just the power of what people _want_ to see. What they _want_ to believe. Normally it takes a couple days for the drugs to really kick in and help, but your _friend_... he's got a powerful need."

He stepped forward angrily, but the man disappeared into the folds of clothing. "Shit," he swore. "Goddammit, Hakkai."

But it wasn't Hakkai, at the moment, was it? It was _him_ again.

Crushing out his cigarette, he gave up on stealth and started opening doors loudly.

 

~*~*~

 

Her hands were pale and white and smooth. Warm and soft as he remembered. He cradled them, touched them to his face, smiled as she laughed at him. They did not speak, but her quiet song filled the small space of the room and the tired spaces of his heart. He thought perhaps he could make out the words if he tried, but he didn't care to try. He didn't care to do anything that might break this moment, this magic --

"Hakkai!" someone yelled. The door swung violently open, nearly hitting him, before it crashed into the wall.

He didn't turn, only clung tighter to her hands as she tried to pull away.

"This isn't real," someone said. It was a voice he knew, but didn't care to know any more. The door slammed shut again.

She stepped back, pulling her hands from his grasp.

"I'm real," the voice added, and arms that were large and strong and not at all female slid around his waist from behind. "She's not."

 _Feathers and snow and song..._

 _Fresh-washed laundry hanging from the clothesline._

 _Ducking around the sheets, hearing them snap in the crisp winter breeze._

 _Stealing a kiss, laughing, protesting. Darting back indoors to warm each other by the fire..._

"Kanan," he whispered.

Her hands reached out to brush his neck, tidy the fold of his turtleneck.

"She's not real."

 _Feathers and snow..._

... and incense so strong it burned out the scent of snow.

"They're gassing the room. We have to leave. Now."

She was fading; golden light of an autumn afternoon fading beneath the dull grey of winter. His fingers had no strength to hold her. She was slipping away, but oh, her smile could break a thousand hearts.

His was already shattered.

"Hakkai!"

His-not-his.

Through a crystal fall of snowflakes (not tears, he never cried), he could see now that the woman was not _her_ at all. Black hair mocked him. Tired blue eyes smiled at him as she disappeared through a hidden door. The click of a lock echoed behind her.

"Hakkai..."

Strong arms still held him as the air made him numb and weak. They fell to their knees, still tangled together. He stared down at his hands, half-curled, pale...

 _...blood-stained..._

"Do you really wanna die this badly, still?" the voice rasped, close to his ear.

Something hot and wet traced the curve of it, caressed the bits of metal there, and he shuddered.

"No," he whispered. He was already broken, he could not break again.

The light that gathered over his hands was the softest green of first Spring.

And it freed them.


End file.
